Yawning, Grace sat down to complete her final task for the night. She turned up the lamp just a bit in order to see better. Taking up a pencil and paper, she began writing a letter to Peter. In the letter she told of Andy’s birth. She hadn’t had the courage to do so until now. The baby was two months old, and she needed to let Peter know of Andy’s existence.
What she dreaded most was that Peter would come to her only because of Andrew. She didn’t want her husband to journey to the Yukon out of a sense of obligation or duty. She wanted him to come because he loved her and wanted her to be his wife. If he found out about Andy, how could she ever be sure of the reasons behind his return? She had prayed about the matter more than once, knowing it was only fair that Peter should know about his son’s birth. She even wondered if God might use Andy to show Peter how important his marriage vows were—that his promise to God and Grace were the very foundation for the family he was called to lead. At the same time, however, she truly regretted having to break the news to him via a letter. She had thought to take a ship back to California, come summer, but now she wasn’t so sure.
The letter she’d written to Peter’s parents after Miranda’s death gave him every indication of her whereabouts. It hurt her that they had made no contact. She had made it clear that their party had intended to winter in Dawson City. She had assured Peter and his family that she could receive mail at “general delivery” in town. But no letter had ever come, and in the months since Miranda’s death, Grace had worried that maybe there would never be a letter from her husband.
“Lord, I don’t want him to come only because of Andrew,” she whispered, her tears falling upon the paper. “I want Peter to love me and to love you. I want Peter to come to me … but only if it’s forever.”
—[CHAPTER FIFTEEN]—
“THAT LEG LOOKS INFECTED, Gump,” Karen said as she assessed the week-old ax wound.
“Ja, I think you might be right.”
“Adrik, I think you’re going to have to take Gump to the doctor in Dawson before this gets much worse. It’s already showing signs of proud flesh.”
“You think it’s that bad?” Adrik came over and upon seeing the swollen, red wound let out a whistle. “Gump, you should have told me it had festered.”
“I figured it’d get better,” the old man said, his voice betraying the pain he felt as Karen sopped at the wound with alcohol.
“Well, it hasn’t. I guess we’re going to have to make a trip to Dawson and get you squared away.”
“You could also pick up Grace and the baby, couldn’t you?” Karen questioned. While she enjoyed Leah’s company in the small cabin, she longed for another woman to talk to. Especially one she knew as well as Grace. Grace was like her own daughter in so many ways.
“I suppose we could arrange for that as well,” Adrik replied. “It’s warming up a little at a time. Probably won’t have any more of those forty-below temperatures.”
“I hope you’re right. Anyway, I miss her a great deal and hate to think of her being all alone with Andy in Dawson.” Karen had only heard from Grace a few times. One letter had come just a few days ago, brought in by one of their neighbors who’d taken a two-week furlough in Dawson while his partner kept the claim.
“If you take me to Dawson,” Gump said, “who vill be here to care for the place?”
“I’ll be here,” Karen replied. “As much as I’d like to see civilization again, I’m just as happy to stay here. Leah and Jacob and I can take care of things while you’re gone.”
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you,” Adrik said.
“We’ll be fine, Adrik,” Jacob Barringer promised. “I’ve cut enough wood to keep warm until May and you won’t be gone that long.” He laughed good-naturedly. “And if you are, well, I’ll just cut more wood.”
“Not that there’s a lot left. Some of the areas are positively stripped of vegetation,” Karen said as she wrapped Gump’s leg with a makeshift bandage. “There, that will have to do until you can see the doctor.” She gently helped him get his boot on. “Try not to walk around too much. I’m afraid you’ll make it bleed again.”
“A man’s no good if he can’t be helpin’ out,” Gump replied.
“You’ll be no good at all if that poison gets into your bloodstream and kills you,” Adrik told the man sternly. He looked at his watch and then to Karen. “It’s too late to leave now. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”
Karen knew Adrik was just as worried about the old man as she was. Gump had been good to them, and she’d grown to love the old man’s stories. Of course, it would have been better had the cabin been bigger. Adrik had helped the matter by fashioning some collapsible beds. They folded up when not in use, which allowed them extra living space during the day and early evening. Still, the cabin was barely twenty-bytwelve feet, and at times Karen could swear the walls were closing in.
Turning from Gump, Karen focused her attention on helping Leah with supper. A large piece of elk roasted on a spit over the fire in Gump’s hearth. The delicious aroma almost made Karen forget that she was sick and tired of elk. But she longed for fried chicken and creamy mashed potatoes. And she would have walked a mile for a piece of Aunt Doris’s strawberry cream pie. She would have walked two miles in the snow for a glass of fresh, cold milk.
Leah sat near the fire faithfully turning the roast, and she smiled when Karen offered to take over. “At least it’s warm here.”
“Sometimes I doubt we shall ever be warm again, but Gump assures me the air heats right up in the middle of summer.”
“And the sun stays up for hours and hours. I think that’s so wonderful,” Leah said, her voice edged with girlish wonder. “I think it’s amazing how God gives the north so much light in the summer, to make up for not having much in the winter. It’s like a little present.”
Karen chuckled at the analogy. “I suppose you could say that.”
“But I also like the northern lights,” Leah continued. “They put on just about the prettiest show I’ve ever seen. God made that, too, didn’t He?”
“You can be sure He did,” Adrik answered for Karen. “There are a great many wonders in this world, and all of them come compliments of the Almighty. Why, you should have heard Karen’s papa talk about God’s glorious creation. When he was preaching the Gospel, he used nature and the beauty of the land to show the glory of God to the folks who were listening.”
“Maybe that’s why the natives liked him so much,” Leah suggested.
“I know it was an important part,” Adrik said, nodding. “Mr. Pierce always said in order to get people to take an interest in what you had to say, you had to meet them where they lived.”
“What’s that mean?” Leah questioned.
“It means,” Karen interjected, “that most folks only take an interest in what’s most important to them. If you want people to listen to what you have to say, you have to show them how it pertains to them—why it should matter to them.”
“Exactly. You also give them examples they can relate to,” Adrik added. “Mr. Pierce lived among the natives, especially the Tlingit. He lived as they lived and ate what they ate. He worked alongside them and never complained or judged them. He showed the love of Jesus in human form. He was one of the most godly men I’ve ever known.”
Karen wiped a tear from her eye and turned back to the roast. “I think our supper is just about ready. Leah, did you get the bread sliced?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll put it on the table.” She got up and went to the cupboard.
Karen smiled at her husband. “Thank you for the nice things you said about my father. Sometimes I miss him and Mother so much. It still makes me sad to think of how I came north to find him, only to lose him.”
“He’s not lost to you,” Adrik said, reaching out to take hold of her. The roast was forgotten as he embraced her. “He’s waiting in heaven with your mother. You’ll see them again.”
“I know, but I made the trip and then …�
��
“And then you found me,” Adrik said firmly, tilting her chin upward to meet his gaze. “And I found you, and now my life is so much better. I’m blessed and whole.”
Karen looked into the longing expression of her husband. She knew how much he desired for them to have time alone. He’d promised her he’d build them a private room as soon as the weather warmed.
“I’m blessed as well,” she whispered. “Blessed beyond all my expectations.”
The next morning, Adrik kissed Karen soundly and waved good-bye as the dogs pulled the sled down the trail. She hated to see him go. What if something happened to them on the trail? What if wolves or a rogue bear that had awakened early from its hibernation attacked them?
Karen knew it was senseless to worry. “Worry is a sin,” her mother had told her when she was young. It was like saying that God wasn’t able to see to her needs.
Karen and the children busied themselves for the rest of the day with cleaning the cabin. They were all restless. The old timers called it cabin fever. But whatever it was, Karen longed for an end to it. She couldn’t help but believe things would have been better if she had a home of her own—with real beds and walls. She wondered if she had what it would take to spend the rest of her life in Alaska or the Yukon. The uncertainty concerned her, at times to the point of making her fretful. Adrik would never be suited to life in the southern states. He had made that quite clear, and Karen worried that she might fail him in her longing for what once had been.
By dinnertime they were all exhausted and quite ready to settle down to warmed elk hash and canned peaches. Karen always tried to dole their food out in a responsible way. She wanted them to have variety, but too much variety would cause them to forfeit their supply. There was no way of telling how long it would be before they could buy additional food items. And then there was no way of telling how much the food might cost.
They were just finishing up the supper dishes when a knock sounded on the cabin door. Karen looked to Jacob, who immediately went for the rifle. He nodded his readiness and stood behind the door as Karen opened it.
Steadying her nerves, Karen opened the door. An unknown man loomed in the doorway. His gaze fixed on Karen, his eyes narrowing. She smelled whiskey on him almost immediately.
“Howdy, ma’am.”
“Hello.” Her tone was clearly cautious.
The man scratched his beard and pushed back his hat. “Well, ma’am, I was wonderin’ if your menfolk are around.”
“They are,” Karen said, counting Jacob as man enough for the moment.
“Can I talk to them?” His gaze devoured her, making Karen feel extremely uncomfortable.
“No, I’m afraid not. They’re busy right now.”
The man stepped forward and looked into the cabin. “I don’t see anybody but you and the girl.”
Jacob stepped out from behind the door. “The lady said they’re busy.” The rifle did not go unnoticed by the man. He stepped back immediately and nodded.
“I was hopin’ to talk to them about takin’ some mail into town for me. I heard a rumor they was headin’ into Dawson.”
Karen stiffened. The man had probably been watching the cabin and knew Adrik and Gump had already taken off, but she felt inclined to pretend they hadn’t. “You might catch them down at the creek,” Karen said, feeling the moment merited the lie. Besides, she hadn’t said which creek they might be by.
The man cleared his throat and spit on the ground outside the door. “Guess I could go lookin’ for them.”
Karen began to close the door. “That would be best.”
“Or I could just wait here for them. Maybe beg a cup of coffee.”
“No, I’m sorry. That wouldn’t be possible. You might try the next camp if you’re looking for coffee. I’m afraid we’re completely out.” At least that wasn’t a lie. It was at the top of the list of items for Adrik to bring back from Dawson.
The man shrugged but refused to go. Karen continued to close the door. “I’m sorry, but the room is growing chilly.” She closed the door in his face and quickly latched it.
She turned to Jacob and shook her head. In a hushed voice she said, “I don’t like this one bit.”
“Me neither. I’ll make sure the shutters are closed tight and barred. You might want to put something in front of the door.”
“Do you think he’ll try to hurt us?” Leah asked fearfully.
“I hope not,” Karen replied. “We must pray for God’s protection.” She glanced back at the closed door, grateful for the thickness of the roughhewn wood. Gump, being of good Swedish stock and familiar with cold weather, had made the entire cabin with thick walls and few windows. There had been a time Karen might have taken a great displeasure with this, but now she was quite grateful.
“I think we’d best load the other gun. Just in case.” Jacob’s voice wavered slightly as he spoke.
Karen looked at him and nodded. “Might as well be prepared.” But she didn’t feel at all prepared. She felt very vulnerable and frightened. Oh, Lord, please shelter us from whatever harm that man intends. You know what he was up to, even if we don’t. Please thwart any evil that might be planned against us. And please bring Adrik back quickly.
A crash sounded as Jacob dropped the box of ammunition, causing Karen to jump a foot. She looked to the young man and tried her best to smile. She read the worry in his eyes, however, and knew she couldn’t fool him. She might be able to convince Leah that things were all right, but Jacob was old enough to know better.
“Sorry,” he said, picking up the bullets.
Leah walked over to Karen and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I didn’t like that man at all. What if he comes back here tonight?”
“We’ll be ready for him,” Jacob stated firmly. “I’ll keep watch. You two can sleep and toward morning you can take over for me. Then come daylight we can talk to the Jones brothers at the next claim and tell them what happened. Adrik figures them for good folk—Gump, too.”
“Maybe we should go there now,” Leah said, looking hopefully to her brother.
“No,” he said and resumed loading the Winchester for Karen. “He might be out there hoping we’ll do exactly that.” Karen trembled at the thought and Leah held her all the more tightly. “I wish Adrik were here,” Leah barely breathed.
Karen nodded. “I wish he were, too.”
Jacob Barringer sat alone in the silence of the night, his rifle across his lap as he sat poised—watching, waiting. Come what may, he was ready. At least he hoped he was. He didn’t know what to make of the stranger who’d frightened them all.
He hadn’t seen Karen so shaken since their store in Dyea had burned down. Jacob tried not to let the man’s appearance bother him. He tried not to imagine that the stranger was out there in the darkness, plotting and planning against them.
What had he wanted? Had he known all along that the menfolk were gone, with the exception of Jacob? Jacob would never have admitted it to Karen or Leah, but at the moment, he didn’t feel that much like a man. He wanted to prove himself to be brave and capable, but frankly the idea of having to shoot someone—possibly kill him—was something Jacob didn’t stomach well.
He supposed he wasn’t intended to like the idea of shooting someone, but he’d seen so much destruction and death on his way to the Yukon that even the idea of dealing with one more confrontation was more than Jacob wanted to face.
What he did want was to leave the Yukon. He’d denied the discouraging truth long enough, but now he resolved to accept that his father had died in the Palm Sunday avalanche on the Chilkoot Trail. If his father were alive, he’d be here in the heart of it all—working his knuckles raw as he tried to find gold. If his father were alive, he would have at least sent word back to Karen at the store.
No, his father was dead. Jacob had to accept the truth, no matter how hard or painful. But with that acceptance, came another overwhelming truth. He was responsible for Leah.
He needed a good job and he needed to provide her with a real home. The only trouble was, he didn’t see how he could do both. He wanted to go to work for Peter Colton. He’d gotten to know Peter fairly well during their days in Skagway, when Jacob would meet up with him on the docks before transporting the goods to the store. Peter had promised Jacob he could have a job with Colton Shipping anytime he wanted one.
The real problem was Leah. He didn’t want to leave her again. She’d been truly hurt when he’d left her to head north. They’d only talked about it once or twice, but he knew she had felt abandoned. How would it be if he took a job that kept him far away from her for long periods of time? And where would she stay? Karen had offered them both a home for as long as they needed it, but Jacob couldn’t very well expect Karen and Adrik to give up their future to care for Leah forever.
Yet he’d seen how Leah and Karen interacted. Karen had become a mother to Leah, and Adrik had filled in the place of a father. It seemed right for her to be a part of their family. Leah would be all right with Karen and Adrik, especially if Jacob promised to come and see her from time to time. If he worked for Peter’s shipping company he could no doubt do just that. Maybe he’d mention it to Karen tomorrow—see what her thoughts were on the matter.
The crux of all his problems was this: He didn’t want to disappoint Leah. Not after all she had been through. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he didn’t want to make a mistake where she was concerned. God had given him a responsibility. And God would expect him to take the matter seriously and to make plans for their future—plans that would benefit them both.
A scratching noise at the door caused Jacob to jump to his feet. As silently as he could manage, Jacob moved to the door. He listened, waiting for something more.
The unmistakable sounds of movement on the other side of the door caused the hair on the back of Jacob’s neck to stand up. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths. Perspiration beaded on his forehead, even though the cabin was quite chilly.
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